


Son of a Chihuahua

by dispatchwithlove



Category: Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Driving, F/M, Humor, Pre-Relationship, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-10-01
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:07:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26741866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dispatchwithlove/pseuds/dispatchwithlove
Summary: Garrus loves teasing Shepard
Relationships: Female Shepard/Garrus Vakarian
Comments: 21
Kudos: 78





	Son of a Chihuahua

“Mako to Normandy,” Garrus coolly called out only a second after Shepard took a hard right to avoid a boulder they had been barreling towards. They’d only been planetside for thirty minutes and Shepard was already proving that her driving was more lethal than the geth. Literally. She ran one over right after they landed, and some serious effort would have to be put into convincing Garrus she’d done it on purpose. 

“Go ahead, Mako,” Joker answered.

“Request for search and rescue crew. I lost my stomach a few hundred meters back. Sending coordinates now. Also requesting proof that Shepard actually received tactical driving training…or _any_ driving training, actually. ”

“Garrus, you son of a bitch.” Shepard hissed, spinning the wheel like it was a game and she was out to win. Garrus was pretty sure her enthusiastic spin of the wheel was intentional because his CO had a temper. She was fun and kind, and sometimes cute, but she had one hell of a mean streak when someone fucked with her, which just so happened to be one of his favorite past times. 

Joker's voice rang out throughout the Mako answering with a laugh. “Have fun down there guys. I’ll be safe up here in the Normandy, but I’ll be sure to send some antacids down to the cargo bay when you return. Joker Out.”

“I’m sure that’s a stinging insult, Shep,” Garrus said, getting right back to harassing his CO. “But I have no idea what a bitch is, or why it’s bad to be the son of one.” 

“A bitch is a female dog.”

“What’s a dog?”

“It’s an earth creature. A pet.” Another hard right to avoid a dip had everyone sliding in their seats.

“ _Shepard_ ,” Wrex growled from the back seat, warning Shepard to keep it steady.

“ _Wrex_ ,” Shepard growled back, mocking the old krogan who lacked Garrus’ sense of humor about the whole thing. 

“So you’re calling me a dog?" Garrus asked for clarification, knowing that his pestering was only making her even more irritated. 

“Well, no, I’m calling your _mom_ a dog. Don’t turians do mom jokes?” As they hit another bump Garrus watched Shepard’s hair fly up into the air and heard a bump from the backseat, Wrex groaning a split second later. 

“What exactly is wrong with being a dog? And yeah, we do mom jokes, but mostly they’re insults about her accuracy or inability to win in hand-to-hand combat. Stuff like that.”

Shepard, taking both hands off the wheel and raising her knees up to grip it, as if that was an acceptable replacement for having her hands on it, typed something quickly into her omni-tool. An image of a furry creature with large, icy-blue eyes popped up. “That’s a dog.”

“Kinda has your eyes, Turian,” Wrex, peering over Shepard’s shoulder, pointed out from the back seat.

“I’ll take that as a compliment. Those eyes are striking, just like mine. You’re just as good at insults as you are at driving.”

Shepard grunted so deep and loud that he thought for just a second it was Wrex complaining again. “Well, that’s a Siberian Husky, they’re actually fucking beautiful.” Still driving with her legs, she typed something new, poking into her tool so aggressively he was tempted to record the comical sight to show Joker later. “There, how would you like to be called a son of one of _those_?” She waited for his reaction, triumph already burning in her eyes. 

Garrus and Wrex both looked at the new creature that popped up – large protruding eyes set on a minuscule head stared back at them. It had a tiny, pathetic little frame and its tongue stuck out the side of its mouth as if it had simply given up on existing. “Well, I wouldn’t,” Garrus admitted. “But what does that have to do with being a son of a bitch, or dog, rather?” 

“That’s a dog,” Shepard snapped, well past frustrated. She was looking at him like she wanted to kill him. It was great. 

Garrus responded with a laugh, not believing a word of what Shepard was saying. Wrex watched Shepard front the backseat, looking a bit disappointed in her at that point, a quirked brow indicating he also didn’t believe her. “That is _not_ the same creature as the one in the first image,” Garrus argued.

“Yes. It is.”

“Well what’s wrong with that one,” Garrus asked, pointing at the image of the poor creature. 

“It’s a Chihuahua. Nothing’s wrong with it. That’s what they look like.” Her frustration peaking, she shook both fists at Garrus, the heat in her eyes actually scaring him just a little. The tactically smart thing to do at the point would be to back off, smooth it over, and focus on the mission. He knew that.

But it would also be less fun.

“ _They’re different breeds_ ,” she added, as if Garrus was the idiot. 

Just at that moment, they were all jolted violently to the left, their seat belts jerking their cores and three sets of arms flying into the air, as the Mako’s left tire ran over an especially large rock. Shepard put her hands back on the steering wheel, correcting their course. Nothing in her body language read that she would admit her neglect had been the cause. Her stubbornness was just another thing that made Garrus think she was the best CO he'd ever had. 

While everyone got settled back in their seat, Garrus interrupted the awkward silence, musing, “This was all a sad attempt to distract me from your terrible driving, wasn’t it?”

Wrex grabbed his banged-up arm and groaned as Garrus waited to get punched or kicked for that last insult, but she just stared straight ahead. Suddenly calm. They were in the eye of a storm now. After so many of these terrible rides in the Mako, he wondered why Wrex still offered to go along on missions with Shepard and Garrus. 

“And it actually worked,” Garrus said. “I forgot you were driving for a minute, but so did you.”

“You...” Shepard sputtered.

“Son of a Chihuahua?” he asked with a smirk. 

Her eyes, thankfully watching the bumpy terrain ahead of them, narrowed with a soldier's determination and focus. “Your mom can’t hit a krogan,” she started, chillingly calm, “standing in the middle of a desert, at 100 feet.”

Garrus offered up an approving smile. “Better. But my mom is an excellent shot.”

“Well what’s your mom bad at?” Shepard asked, so desperate to get at least one good insult in that she actually thought he might provide an honest answer.

Garrus opened his mouth, ready to dish out another pestering insult, but before he got a word out a low, steady growl traveled from the backseat just before Wrex said, “Getting her son to shut up.”


End file.
